


Queen Walda Frey

by Umerue



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Walda Frey, F/M, Family, Humor, Morally Ambiguous Character, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-02-10 08:11:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18656446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Umerue/pseuds/Umerue
Summary: Ramsay Bolton has underestimated his stepmother. There are five Walda Freys in Twins. His father married one, and Ramsay lost his inheritance. Then the second one moved in Dreadfort and cost Ramsay his victory against Starks. The third, slutty one promised to help to torture his Reek, but ruined everything.A story where Plain Walda, Fat Walda and Fair Walda don’t give up their new home or lives so easily. Freys are like ants. They might look plain, but you should never let them inside your house. They multiply, they piss on you and they like to build nests.





	1. Plain Walda

“Here are the Waldas. My children keep thinking that naming their brats after me would make me partial to them. Well, there are four Walders and five Waldas, and as you can see, not one of them is anything special.”, grandfather waved his hand, looking irritated.    
“Fair Walda. At least this one looks better than the rest.”, he remarked, pointing Fair Walda out to lady in black wool. “White Walda. I don’t know where the name comes from, but it doesn’t matter. The next one is easy; Fat Walda. And I remember this one too… It’s the Walda who inherits the Twins, unless her useless mother plops out a boy.”  
The Heiress Walda held her nose up. She didn’t need to smile to Catelyn Stark; she would be a lady one day and she did not need a landed husband, unless Black Walder took her mother in the broom cupboard again. Everyone knew that Black Walder liked to fuck his brothers’ wives, especially lady Janice, because there was bad blood between Edwyn and Black Walder.  
“This one… This one doesn’t even have a nickname.”, Grandfather stopped in front of her, looking at her with cool, uncaring eyes. His breath smelled sour, like old man’s, and Walda tried to stand straight and look pretty like mother had told her to do.  
“Looks like a plain Walda to me.”, grandfather said, and the name stuck.

Her mother was upset when she heard. She was a sister of lord Lefford, and unlike her husband, had only two siblings to compete against. Plain Walda’s father Lothar Frey was a twelfth son by fourth wife, and a cripple, too. Her father was too busy with his work to spend much time with his children; they were all daughters anyway, and daughters were even less valuable than sons, barely outranking bastards at the Twins.  
“Plain Walda, eh?”, her father remarked, munching a sausage in the room their family of six shared. “They call me Lame Lothar, yet I’m the steward and everyone must come to me to beg for more beer and a better place. Let me tell you, girl, it all depends what you make of yourself and how useful you are to others. Useless girls become old maids like Tyta, staying here forever.”  
It was the first time Plain Walda remembered getting advice from her father. And just like grandfather’s nickname, it stuck, too.

\--

Plain Walda nicked a mirror from Fair Walda, when her cousin was in the broom closet with Black Walder.   
She sat on Fair Walda’s bed and studied her face critically. She had escaped the family curse of small, close-set eyes, but inherited Blackwoods’ hook nose and grandfather’s weak chin. Her hair was dark, like father’s, but there was no curl in it, and it hang limply on her shoulders. The nicest feature she had were her eyes; they were greenish brown and luminous, but Fair Walda had once pointed out the colour was exactly like swamp water.  
She was eleven, not yet a woman, but it looked like she would grow up just like grandfather had said. Plain. It might be a good thing she had gotten her nickname now, and not later, in case her nose kept growing. Plain Walda was better than Hooknose Walda, she thought, and stared her reflection from the small mirror.  
“What are you doing?”, Fat Walda asked. She sat on Fair Walda’s bed, snacking on a piece of hard bread.  
“Trying to figure out how to be useful.”, Plain Walda replied.  
Fat Walda shrugged.  
“It’s better than going to broom closet with Black Walder.”, she said. “Black Walder looks nice, but he is nasty, and there is nothing gained from it. If you were wise, you’d start eating, too.”  
Plain Walda blinked.  
“What do you mean?”, she asked.  
“I’m not stupid.”, Fat Walda said sharply. “It’s better to be fat and be left alone by Black Walder than lose your maidenhead to your uncle. Remember what happened to Amerei? She had to marry a hedge knight and now she lives in a hut. A hut is worse than the Twins. It’s only a matter of time before grandfather catches Fair Walda having fun or she gets pregnant and then it doesn’t matter anymore how pretty she is.”  
Plain Walda put the mirror away.  
“It’s true.”, she said. Suddenly, her hook nose didn’t feel so unfortunate feature anymore.  
Fat Walda bit on her bread and continued:  
“If Freys are good at something, it’s having children. Fair Walda is a fool.”  


Her mother was busy with baby Leana, and father had never time for Plain Walda anyway. Tysane was two years older than Plain Walda, a woman flowered, and liked to spend time with other girls of marriageable age. Tysane had started asking father about a match, but father blamed the war and said that he and grandfather had better things to than find husbands for dozens of girls. But then, one day when Tysane pestered him again, father looked up from his plate and said:  
“There is another northerner lord coming to look for a wife; Lord Bolton has an agreement with lord Walder.  You’d better make sure you catch his eye when he comes.”

Plain Walda had not flowered yet even though she was twelve now, and there was no place for her on the row of the Frey girls to be introduced. Lord Bolton was not going to take wards like lady Stark. Plain Walda thought it unfair that lady Stark had taken only boys; she could be a lady’s companion. She was smart, and shrewd, and could keep her mouth shut. She could sew, too, and pray whatever gods her lady wanted to worship.  Her grandmother, grandfather’s fourth wife, had been a Blackwood, and father had decided to worship both Old Gods and the New. Not that he did a lot of worshipping, father said was a septon’s job, but it was useful for his work as a steward, too. Northern lords were fussy about their Old God rules about guests.

She thought about her options long and hard after Black Walder pushed against her in a stairwell and squeezed her tit ‘by an accident’.

In the Twins, you learned early that only full blood siblings could be trusted, and them not very far. But Tysane didn’t like her, because Plain Walda was better with numbers, and was allowed to count food in the pantry and lock it when father was too busy with war. There were no servants in the Twins, and everyone had to do their part of the work; grandfather said that paying for a servant was a waste when he had a house full of useless relatives to feed.

Plain Walda was not pretty. She was not fat enough to escape Black Walder’s attentions and taking food from the pantry to gain more weight would not work fast enough. Father would notice there was too much food missing before she could become fat enough be overlooked like Fat Walda. He would take his key back, and then she would have to scrub pots like Tysane. Counting sausages, sacks of flour and the caskets of ale was preferable to scrubbing greasy pots. Black Walder was nasty and violent; her father had a lame leg and nobody else would care to defend her. If she tried to kill Black Walder with a kitchen knife, grandfather would be angry, because Black Walder was more useful for the family. Success meant she would die too, hanged as a murderer, and if she failed, she might get raped and killed anyway.

Staying at the Twins was out of question. Her best bet, Plain Walda thought shrewdly, was to appeal to her sister, cousins and aunts of marriageable age and negotiate an alliance with future lady Bolton.

\--

The problem with negotiations became very clear soon after Plain Walda started approaching her cousins. She had nothing to offer to them in return. Merry Frey laughed at her face, and Roslin blinked, looking at Plain Walda like she had claimed she was the Queen Visenya reborn.   
“She has nothing to worry about.”, Plain Walda whispered bitterly to Fat Walda. “Roslin is grandfather’s favourite. Black Walder would not dare to ruin Roslin.”  
She swallowed her tears, feeling helpless.  
“I guess I could ask from Fair Walda, but she might say something to Black Walder and then I would be in worse trouble. Black Walder likes it when people are afraid of him.”  
“I could help you.”, Fat Walda said unexpectedly.   
“What?”  
“You have Lame Luthor’s key to pantry, and I like pork pie they are making for the wedding.”, her cousin said calmly. “I’m going to stand on that line when lord Bolton comes. One chance is better than no chances at all.”  
Plain Walda squeezed father’s pantry key in her hand and tried to think. If Father noticed there was pork pie missing, he would spank her, and she might lose her job. But he might not notice. Lately, father had been awfully busy talking about war with grandfather even though he couldn’t fight.   
“Three slices of pork pie, and I swear that if I marry Lord Bolton, I will ask him a permission to take you with me when I leave.”, Fat Walda whispered. Her watery eyes looked honest, and Plain Walda knew Fat Walda liked the pork pie. People teased her about it. Also, Fat Walda was not petty, like Fair Walda, or nasty like Black Walder. She might keep her promise. And all she had promised was to ask from Lord Bolton.  
“You swear on your honor as a Frey?”, Plain Walda whispered.  
Fat Walda nodded.  
“All right.”, Plain Walda said, offering her hand. “We’re allies now.”  
“Allies.”, Fat Walda smiled. She had a surprisingly nice smile. She took Plain Walda’s hand and shook it. “Bring me the pork pie, and we have a deal.”

\--

 

“Do you know the punishment for thievery, girl?”, grandfather’s watery eyes were looking at her. Her father was sitting next to grandfather behind the long table. It was the morning after Lord Bolton’s wedding, and they both were hangover.  
“It was not thievery. It was investment on your behalf, my lord.”, Plain Walda said bravely. “Three slices of pork pie are cheaper than feeding and clothing and dowering a useless girl.”  
Grandfather raised a white eyebrow.  
“Your explanation would better be a good one. I’m listening.”, he said, motioning Plain Walda to continue.  
“I brokered a deal with Fat Walda before her marriage, my lord. She promised to take me with her if lord Bolton chose her. I tried to negotiate with others, too, but I couldn’t get them anything they wanted.”, the words rushed from her mouth and her knees shook, but she held herself straight.  
Grandfather glanced at her father, whose anger was changing into something else. Was that a smile? _Pride?_ Plain Walda wasn’t sure she had ever seen her father looking like that. Not because of her.  
“My Walda is a cunning one.”, her father offered.  
“Indeed. In the future, girl, you should consider your stakes more carefully when you play. We Freys – we don’t take unnecessary risks. We play to win.”, grandfather said. “You’re dismissed.”


	2. Fair Walda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plain Walda gets unpleasant surprise.

Plain Walda was not happy to see Fair Walda at the yard. The yard was ugly sight as it was; heavy stench of blood was everywhere and there were piles of dead north men. She had been up most of the night, listening the horrible noise coming from grandfather’s hall. Her knuckles were stiff from holding a washing bat as hard as she could; there had been no sight of father and mother had panicked when the screaming began. A washing bat would not have stopped a northern knight from coming in and killing them all, but surely it was better to try than just lay down and die?

Father had told them that they had avenged a terrible slight against their family, and rightful king Joffrey would reward grandfather. Mother had been quiet. When a bloody Bolton man knocked on their door and told lord Roose was leaving, she had hugged Plain Walda very tightly.  
“I don’t know what will happen now, but one can’t question lord Walder. It’s the best not to get involved in men’s business.”, mother had said, looking worried. “Promise me you will be quiet and careful. Don’t draw attention and obey your cousin. Take a good care of her, and she will take good care of you.”  
  
Despite the ungodly hour, Fat Walda looked happy. She sat on a fine horse, holding her three chins up and beaming. Fair Walda stood close, holding a small sack of cloth and looking sour.  
“What is she doing here?”, Plain Walda hissed.  
“I’m the lady Bolton, and you are my maid. You are not the only person I made agreements with.”, Fat Walda said.  
Fair Walda had crossed her arms under her tits, looking sullen. Plain Walda narrowed her eyes, thinking. The last time she had seen Fair Walda had been at Fat Walda’s wedding. She had not been a part of grandfather’s line up for Roslin’s disastrous wedding – Fair Walda was not someone who would let grandfather slaughter her guests and steal a husband from her marriage bed, ruining her chances of becoming a great lady. Something was off. She was pale, and clearly not herself. Fair Walda would never have allowed someone as meek as Roslin to catch Edmure Tully in front of her nose.  
“Where have you been? To wood’s witch to get rid of Black Walder’s baby?”, Plain Walda asked rudely.  
“It’s none of your business.”, Fair Walda’s eyes lit up with fire Plain Walda remembered all too well. “Either you keep your mouth shut, or I will lock you in a shed to rot with the dead direwolf.”  
Fat Walda had followed their argument with a mellow smile, but her demeanour changed suddenly.  
“My lord is here. Behave, or you both will be left behind!”  
Plain Walda swallowed an insult she had planned to yell and tried to look meek. It was not hard, considering the corpses on the yard. They made her feel sick, but she could not do anything about it, she reminded herself. Unless she was useful, she might end up in a pile, too. It was how things happened in Twins.   


\--

The journey to Dreadfort lasted forever. Plain Walda spent many nights sitting on a tree stump, wrapping her thin cloak tighter around her torso and shivering from cold while Fat Walda squealed in their tent. Fair Walda claimed that men liked women who were noisy and enthusiastic in marriage bed, and Fat Walda had decided to do her best. It kept lord Bolton coming to their tent almost every night, but Plain Walda worried she might freeze to death. This was her first winter, and it was not a pleasant experience.   
Fair Walda had voted to find alternative place to sleep very early on, hooking up with someone called Grunt. Fair Walda mentioned that Grunt had a fellow called Yellow Dick, who had little success with women and even a girl like Plain Walda might be able to get a warm place for the night. But Plain Walda had not engineered her escape from Black Walder and Twins to trade her maidenhood to someone called Yellow Dick. Men with names like that were alone for a reason.

\--

Dreadfort looked nothing like Twins. It was darker, and emptier. Fat Walda’s new stepson smiled too often and too widely, and he _liked_ little Walder. In Plain Walda’s opinion, nobody with any sense liked Little Walder. Even grandfather did not. That was why he had been sent to live with Starks. Grandfather said they deserved each other.  
“Of course I saved your little brother from Winterfell’s fire. How could I not? He’s my best boy!”, Ramsay Bolton grinned to Fat Walda, messing Little Walder’s hair while the boy beamed, looking proud. Behind them, Big Walder stood quietly. His smile looked frozen and his eyes a bit wild. He reminded Plain Walda of her little sister Emberlei, who had been locked in the cellar storage room for overnight. Emberlei was afraid of spiders, and Little Walder thought it great fun.  
Plain Walda glanced at Fair Walda, who stood next to her. Fair Walda’s smile never faded, but her eyes narrowed so very slightly, her gaze never leaving Ramsay.  
Even though Plain Walda didn’t like Fair Walda any better than before, she felt reassured. Fair Walda was the type of woman who evil queen stories were made of; she was beautiful, evil, and never hesitated to take whatever she wanted. No matter what had happened here, Fair Walda would know it all before nightfall.  


The dinner in Dreadfort’s dark, gloomy hall was uneasy.  Fat Walda tried to make pleasant conversation and the only person who picked up her attempts was Ramsay. His smile was too wide and delighted and his eyes shone with mirth, like there was a joke going on, but he was the only one to know. Plain Walda didn’t like people who laughed at nothing. It made her feel like they were laughing at her, and she had already checked twice to be certain the back of her skirt was not accidentally caught in her underpants.

It was comforting when Fair Walda finally appear after the hour of the wolf in a small, cold stone chamber they were supposed to share. Not that Plain Walda would ever admit it. She opened her eyes and scowled, pretending she’d been asleep.  
“Can’t you keep your skirts down even for a night? You ruin my sleep.”  
“I know you were awake.”, Fair Walda sniffed, kicking her boots off and climbing in the bed. Plain Walda yelped and cursed when Fair Walda’s icy cold feet brushed against hers.  
“Keep the prickly mask on, little girl, and find a ticket out of here as soon as you can. A sailor, a serf, anyone as long as he’s not sworn to this rotten family. Fat Walda’s new son is the worst sort of man. He likes to skin and mutilate women and then feed them to his hunting dogs, alive.”, Fair Walda’s warm breath whispered against her cheek. “Big Walder is so afraid he pissed in his pants when he told me.”  
“Are you marrying a peasant, too?”, Plain Walda asked.  
“Of course not, you dolt. For an ugly, scared girl like you, a landed peasant or a sell sword will have to do, but I can set my sights higher. Much higher.”, Fair Walda purred, sounding too pleased.   
A righteous anger filled Plain Walda’s narrow body. She was tired of being insulted, and overlooked, and treated like she was worth nothing. She had escaped the Twins and Black Walder, yet Fair Walda still belittled her. Her anger burned so hot that she did not even feel the cold.  
“I’m going to marry just as well as you, you bloody whore. You’ll see.”, she hissed in the dark.  
Fair Walda laughed.


	3. Old Nan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waldas visit lord Roose's solar to inform him about Fat Walda's pregnancy. Ramsay wants to spend quality time with his family.

Plain Walda had made a point never to visit Lord Roose’s solar, especially when there were raised voices coming from the room, but this time it could not be avoided. Even though noble blood carried a little weight in Dreadfort, keeping up appearances was important. Lord Roose liked his keep orderly, and lord Roose was their only protection against his mad bastard.  
So Plain Walda stood behind Fat Walda, next to Fair Walda, and waited for permission to enter.  
  
Lord Roose was sitting naked by the fire, and there were fat leeches sucking his blood. Fat Walda blushed but Fair Walda raised an eyebrow, clearly appraising the sight before them. Plain Walda noticed Ramsay’s eyes sparkling spitefully before she quickly fixed her gaze on Fat Walda’s back. What it was with northerners? Despite his numerous flaws and rudeness, grandfather did not hold council naked.  
“What is it?”, lord Roose asked.  
“I’m with a child, my lord.”, Fat Walda replied, her nervousness turning into a wide smile. She looked almost pretty when she was happy, Plain Walda thought.   
“Already?”, Ramsay asked, sounding astonished.  
“Yes. Maester Henly confirmed it this morning.”, Fat Walda nodded, still beaming.  
Lord Roose glanced at Ramsay.  
“Perhaps the decree from King Tommen might not be needed after all.”, he said silkily. “Are you happy for me, Ramsay?”  
“I’m very happy for you, father.”, Ramsay replied. He studied the three Waldas, and said then, still smiling:  
“Would you lend me your servants for an evening, mother? My father is not satisfied with how I’ve treated my prisoners, and I could use your cousins’ help to give them the hospitality their rank calls for. I would ask your help, but you need to rest for the sake of my new brother or sister.”  
Fair Walda swiftly kicked Fat Walda’s ankle, but she was oblivious to danger and too relieved to have evaded the confrontation with Ramsey.  
“Ramsay..”, lord Roose warned.  
“Don’t worry, father. It’s just a small task I need their help with.”, Ramsay said eagerly, his smile too wide.  
“Of course they will help.”, Fat Walda said. She must have felt the terror in Plain Walda’s fingers pinching her back, because she added surprisingly sharply:  
“But I expect my cousins return to me as they are now. Little Walda is still a child, and we might need her to secure an alliance when she comes of age.”  
“I will keep it in my mind, mother.”, Ramsay promised, and strode across the room. He caught Plain Walda’s arm with his left, Fair Walda with his right, and smiled that too wide, bright smile.  
“I’m happy to have you helping me, girls. We’re all going to be a family, now.”, he said cheerfully, and started walking towards the cellars.

There were worse families than the Freys.   
\--  


Plain Walda ran across the cellar, holding a hand against her mouth. Noticing a corner with dirty straw on the floor, she bent and retched. She leaned her hands against the stone wall, leaving red marks.  
“I thought a Frey would have less aversion for blood.”, Ramsay’s delighted laugh followed her. “Your cousin didn’t blink an eye!”  
“Her mother is a Lefford.”, Fair Walda said coolly. “Besides, few maidens are asked to handle a man’s balls when they have been cut off.”  
“Practice makes perfect.”, Ramsay disagreed. “You are a proof of that, my sweet. You gave a splendid ride to prince Theon. Too bad it was his last.”  
“He had a big cock. A pity.”, Fair Walda shrugged. “What are you going to do with it?”  
“Send it to Balon Greyjoy, of course.”, Ramsay said. “Catch!”  
A key flew towards Plain Walda and landed in the puddle of vomit. Looking at happy spark in Ramsay’s eye, he had done it purposefully.  
“Clean your mess up. There is a mop at the end of the cell block. You might feed the rest of the prisoners while you are there. My father wants them treated _properly_ , and now I have taught you how.”, he instructed with a grin.

 --

So Plain Walda became responsible for Winterfell prisoners. Lord Roose wanted to keep them alive for some unknown purpose, and it suited Ramsay’s sense of humour to make a Frey to feed Stark retainers. It was not a pleasant task, but at least they didn’t scream. Plain Walda still had nightmares about that night. She had known about sex, of course, but seeing Fair Walda lure Theon Greyjoy with false promises of escape and then ride him only for Ramsay to enter and cut his balls off had considerably cooled Plain Walda’s interest in marriage bed. Theon had screamed and wept and pleaded until everyone’s ears rang, and Ramsay had told Plain Walda to wash his separated parts and put them into a pretty box.

There were only a few women and children left. A girl, Palla, refused to eat anything Walda gave her, spurting insults about Frey hospitality and Robb Stark’s death, so she simply left a plate of gruel in the cell every other day. The toothless old woman had grown too weak to eat on her own, but her watery, almost blind eyes reminded Plain Walda about grandfather. Even though she didn’t like grandfather, even grandfather made her feel safe compared to Ramsay Bolton, and the time spent feeding the prisoners was a chance to stay away from the main keep where Ramsay played.  
“Open your mouth.”, she ordered, crouching on the dirty straw with a plate in her hand. “I am Walda Frey. If you plan to spit on me or throw your food away, think twice.”  
“Walda Frey.”, the old woman murmured. “I know a story about a Walda. Or was it Sharra? The Witch Queen of Riverlands. I told stories to Brandon when he was a baby, and all the babies after him. I was their Old Nan.”  
Plain Walda sighed and pushed a spoonful of gruel in the woman’s toothless mouth.  
“I wish I were a witch. People in this castle deserve to get hexed.”, she muttered.  
“Cruelty flows in their blood. It’s tainted.”, the old woman whispered, swallowing thin gruel. “In the Long Night, Others sired terrible half-human children on women they caught. The Night’s King was not a Dustin, but a Bolton. The eyes tell true.”  
Plain Walda shivered. She had never liked Bolton eyes. They were like chips of dirty ice, and she hoped Fat Walda’s baby would not inherit them. There were not many nice features for the poor baby to inherit, being the blood of grandfather and Roose Bolton.  
“You must not say it out loud, old mother. Lord Roose might hear you, or Ramsay.”, she whispered. “They don’t care if you are old, or a Stark retainer, or even family. They don’t care at all.”  
It felt like the old woman saw too much with those blind eyes of hers, because she put her wrinkled hand over Walda’s small one. The gesture made Walda’s mouth tremble. She was not accustomed to kindness, and the last one to touch her kindly had been her lady mother who had wept when Plain Walda left the Twins.  
“A death in this place comes regardless one looks for it or not. I have buried my children and my grandchildren, and my last surviving family left with a sweet summer child who climbed too high and let a crow pick on his eye even though I warned him all crows are liars... There is not much for me left to lose.”  
Plain Walda thought of Fat Walda, who prayed every night for a daughter because a son would surely die, and Fair Walda, who had been oddly quiet for a last week or so, and Ramsay Bolton who had skinned three of Theon Greyjoy’s toes because it rained and he didn’t want to go out hunting. An unwanted, terrified sob broke in her throat, and even though Plain Walda tried to swallow it as fast as she could, a small strangled noise came out.  
“You are wise to be afraid, child. One must never trust monsters.”, the old woman whispered, still holding her hand.  
“I wanted to find a safe place, but it’s worse here than even in the Twins.”, she hiccupped, trying to be quiet, trying to stop, but she could not.  
“Come closer, little Walda.”, the woman beckoned. Her breath smelled stale and sour when Wanda leaned towards her, but low murmur was warm in her ear.  
“There was a girl in the Riverlands, a sharp and brave girl who passed beneath the shadow to save a king from monsters. Her name was Walda, and her companions called her the Witch Queen…”


	4. A pirate queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Ramsay ordered Fair Walda to bed prince Theon, he forgot what Freys are famous for. He might have overlooked Fair Walda's ambitious streak, too.

“Reek! Reek! It rhymes with meek.”, Theon Greyjoy chanted anxiously, cowering in the corner. “Reek must return to his cell! Lord Ramsey told Reek it is his place!”  
“Stranger take you!”, Fair Walda hissed, and kicked the madman, who started to cry.  
“Stop that, Walda!”, Fat Walda snapped. “Where were you this morning? I expected everyone to help with curing the fish.”  
Fair Walda turned away from poor Theon Greyjoy, her eyes blazing.  
“I had problems of my own.”, she said.  
“You don’t have problems of your own, not while you live in my keep as my maid.”, Fat Walda told her angrily. “You know as well as Plain Walda that you must stay close to me for your own safety. My lord Roose is the only—”  
“Not here.”, Fair Walda said, and Plain Walda had never heard her so close to pleading. “I will tell you everything, but not here.”

 

“Are you certain it is his?”, Fat Walda asked calmly.  
“Of course I am!”, Fair Walda’s reply was shrill. “He came inside me, I remember Ramsay complaining about it because Reek’s cock was already getting soft and it was harder to cut.”  
“Have you thought about moon tea?”  
“Yes, but I don’t know any woods witches around here, and if Ramsay finds out, he will cut it out to torture Reek and slaughters me too! I can’t believe this is happening again! It’s that bloody Reek’s fault!”, Fair Walda cursed, looking very upset.  
“Theon.”, Plain Walda corrected thoughtfully. “You should call him prince Theon.”  
Both Waldas turned to glare at Plain Walda.  
“Balon Greyjoy doesn’t have any other surviving sons. Theon won’t have any other heirs, ever. All we need to do is to send a word to ironborn. I heard from Big Walder that Ramsay sent Theon’s balls to his father, giving him a month to withdraw or he will send more parts of your future husband back to Iron Islands. We could send a letter there, too, telling Balon Greyjoy to collect his son, his son’s lady wife and heir.”, Plain Walda said sweetly.  
“But Reek—Theon is a madman. He will never leave Ramsay voluntarily.”, Fair Walda said slowly.  
“Who said we would ask him?”, Plain Walda huffed. “You can knock him out and carry him over your shoulder to Ironborn ship.”  
Smiling evilly at Fair Walda, she added:  
“Living in Iron Islands would suit you well. I’ve always known you would make a fine queen of savages.”  
“Prat.”, Fair Walda said, but there was no ire in her voice. It was obvious that she was thinking furiously.  
“I think it is a good plan.”, Fat Walda sounded pleased. “Grandfather would appreciate it. It’s far better to be the Queen of Iron Islands than a mother of Reek’s bastard in Dreadfort when Ramsay finds out you’re pregnant. It would be embarrassing to have a handmaid pregnant out of wedlock, and I don’t want you to bring shame to my lord Roose.”  
“Doesn’t it shame lord Roose to plan his prisoner’s escape?”, Plain Walda asked just to annoy Fair Walda.  
“Fair Walda is as trustworthy around men as my sister Ami. It would be just like her to get kidnapped by ironborn pirates. Nobody expects anything else from her, least of all my lord Roose who is a shrewd judge of character.”, Fat Walda stated calmly.  
Fair Walda scowled at them, and Plain Walda put her sweetest smile on her face.  
“I hate you two.”  
“Even though my fine plan makes you a queen?”, Plain Walda asked, opening her eyes as wide as possible.  
“You remind me of grandfather more and more every day, you terror. I will have a word with uncle Symond before he rides to White Harbour. Black Walder claimed Symond is a spymaster, and if it’s true, he’s bound to have someone reliable he can send.”, Fair Walda sniffed, and wiped her eyes.  
“Little Walder can help us, too.”, Fat Walda said.  
“I know he is your little brother, but Little Walder is Ramsay’s creature through and through.”, Plain Walda warned. “I don’t think he can be trusted.”  
“Lord Roose has a letter in his solar. It’s a degree from King Tommen, legitimizing Ramsay as a Bolton. He has not given it to Ramsay yet. If my lord husband doesn’t see Ramsay as impossible choice, the bastard will inherit Dreadfort and my baby is left with nothing.”, Fat Walda said with surprising bitterness.  
 Fair Walda looked at Plain Walda, and unsaid agreement passed between the two.  
“Plain Walda will think how to blame Ramsay for losing the prince.”, Fair Walda announced. “He gets bored easily; we can feed him ideas through Little Walder.”

 

 

The task of fooling Ramsay was not easy one. All Walder Frey’s descendants had been made aware of their numerous faults, and Plain Walda was twelve-year-old ugly girl trying to outwit a psychopath who liked to skin people.  She was terrified she would fail, and her fear made it impossible to come up with a plot.  
“Have you figured it out yet?”, Fair Walda demanded one night when she tossed and turned in their bed.  
“No!”, Plain Walda snapped.  
“Do you remember there is a time limit? It’s been almost four months, and this is starting to look like a bloody bump! How much longer you think I can hide this?”, Fair Walda pulled up her skirts to show her.  
“Stop it! I don’t want to see your hairy... parts!”, Plain Walda put hands on her eyes in a hurry.  
“Stop being such a baby. I swear, I thought I was going to throw up when they carried the pork pie in… The smell – Oh, by Seven!”, Fair Walda’s hard swallow was impossible to miss. She held a hand on her mouth, gesturing furiously towards the door. Resigned and unhappy, Plain Walda climbed off their bed and went to check if the way to wall was clear.

It was cold, wet night, and Plain Walda stood sullenly on guard while Fair Walda vomited over the battlements. She had wanted to sneak down to prison to hear a story, but now Old Nan would be asleep before Plain Walda could get there. Plain Walda could not risk Fair Walda finding out what she was doing; her cousin would mock her mercilessly for being childish. She was a child, Plain Walda reminded herself defensively. Until she flowered, she was still a child, and there was nothing wrong with listening ancient Stark nanny telling her stories even if it was embarrassingly around her bedtime. She was a highborn maid, and if Dreadfort had been a proper castle, she would have been entitled to a nurse to keep her company and guard her virtue. (And she really wanted to know how Walda the Witch Queen and the Fierce Wolf would escape from the half-human monster.)  
  
“Hey! What you two are doing here?”, Yellow Dick called from a window slit, leaving his spot on the watchtower. She heard him coming down the ladder and panicked. Plain Walda glanced at Fair Walda, who was still bent over the wall, and hurried forwards to meet Yellow Dick. She might not be able to block his view completely, but it was dark, and Plain Walda could at least draw his attention away from her cousin.  
“Do you think I want to stand here in the rain? Do you take me for an idiot? I would be in my own bed if I could! The idiot wench drank too much again, and I’m not sharing a bed with someone who gurgles like she might vomit on the mattress! I swear she’s just like Uncle Merrill, always nicking bottles from the kitchen!”, Plain Walda began, stomping her foot and waving her arms in anger.  
“Is it so? I don’t remember the wench taking – Hey, what’s that?“ Yellow Dick started, but suddenly turned to look down the battlements.  
He bent to peek in the dark, and Plain Walda heard a dull wet sound followed by a another, louder thump, and a grunt. It all happened so fast. When Yellow Dick fell on his back, an axe stuck on his forehead, Plain Walda opened her mouth to scream but Fair Walda was faster. She was caught firmly in her cousin’s arms, Fair Walda’s hand holding her mouth shut when an armoured woman climbed on the battlements. There were more and more soldiers coming out from the darkness, climbing over the walls, and Plain Walda was terrified.  
“Are you the Greyjoy men?”, Fair Walda asked, her voice steady and quiet.  
“I’m here for Theon Greyjoy.”, the brown-haired woman said, pulling her axe out from Yellow Dick’s head.  
“I know where Theon is, and I’m coming with you. I have the key right here.”, Fair Walda replied. Her hand sneaked inside Plain Walda’s dress, yanking off the prison key Plain Walda wore on a string around her neck. “I’m sorry, cousin. I didn’t plan you to be here, but I’m not leaving you to explain to Bastard of Bolton. Try to aim for the pigsty. It’s right below.”  
And then she shoved Plain Walda down from the battlements.


	5. Not Dead Walda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Fair Walda, Plain Walda develops even more fearsome reputation than Ramsay's. She uses it to steal his inheritance.

_Zyhys oñoso jehikagon Aeksiot epi, se gis hen syndrorro jemagon._  
_Zyhys perzys stepagon Aeksio Oño jorepi, se morghultas lys qelitsos sikagon._  
_Hen syndrorro, oños. Hen ñuqir, perzys. Hen morghot, glaeson._

Plain Walda opened her eyes. There was a tall, fat man holding chained hands on her chest and behind them, the walls of Ramsay’s special room in the cellars. She was naked. Plain Walda screamed, high and terrified, and the man’s chanting in foreign language stopped abruptly. Then there was a flurry of black cloth, and Fat Walda’s familiar face with three chins loomed above her.  
“Oh, thank you, thank you.”, her cousin’s watery eyes shone with tears. She pulled Plain Walda against her soft, large bosom, and squeezed her so tightly that it hurt. “You came back, you little terror.”, Fat Walda whispered in her ear in weepy voice, and Plain Walda’s fear was starting to turn into confusion. Last thing she remembered was Fair Walda pushing her, a terrifying feeling of a fall in her stomach and the ice-cold realization that she was not going to hit the pigsty.  
“It’s all right now.”, Fat Walda was crying, still holding her. “You are alive. You are alive.”  
Plain Walda peeked over Fat Walda’s shoulder at the shocked, frightened faces behind them. They all looked at her like they had seen a ghost.  
“Are we free to leave, then?”, a handsome man with red-gold hair but only one eye asked. He sounded like a lord.  
“Yes, you are.”, Fat Walda said. “Walton, free the rest of them and see that they have safe passage from Dreadfort.”  
“They are Ramsay’s prisoners.”, Skinner said from the door.  
“I am lady Bolton, and my lord Roose left Dreadfort in my hands.”, Fat Walda said. “Do as I say, Walton. Little Walder, carry Walda to my chambers.”  
Fat Walda’s little brother was big and mean, and Plain Walda expected a cruel remark or a pinch, but Little Walder’s hands shook when he wrapped a clean sheet around her and picked her up. Something was very, very, wrong. Over Little Walder’s shoulder, Plain Walda saw how captain of the guard took a key from his belt, and the tall, fat man offered his chained wrists to Walton.  
Fat Walda was already hurrying up the stairs with a candle. Little Walder’s arms were shaking, and he held her as far from his body as he could. Plain Walda wrapped her arms around his neck and frowned. The dungeons were cold, but there were no goose bumps on her skin.  
“What is it?”, Plain Walda asked in hoarse voice. Her throat felt like she had not drunk for days. “What happened to me, Little Walder?”  
“Seriously?”, her cousin sounded very odd and nervous.  
“Yes!”, Plain Walda hissed.  
“You were dead.”

\--

Dreadfort’s yard smelled of smoke. The ironborn had burned the kennels and kidnapped Reek, angering Ramsay. Fair Walda had been stolen by ironborn, too. Nobody was surprised; uglier girls than Fair Walda had been stolen and taken as salt wives by ironborn raiders for centuries in the North.  
There were no jokes on how Plain Walda’s hook nose was so big that even the ironborn wouldn’t fancy her, or how she still had almost no tits even though half of the castle guard had seen her naked. She had forced Big Walder to tell her what had happened. He claimed that she had been found dead from the castle yard, and her corpse had laid in Ramsay’s cellar for two days.

Frey men had caught a group of southerners on their way to the Wall, and one of them had been a red priest. After few stories of Ramsay, the red priest had claimed that he had brought back a man seven times, and Fat Walda had promised their freedom in exchange for a miracle.

Plain Walda had no idea how Fat Walda was going to explain this to lord Roose and Ramsay when they returned hunting the ironborn. But if they returned with Fair Walda, she swore she would slap her cousin as hard as she could. The damned bitch had murdered her, and she was not sure if everything of her had been put back the way it was. It was hard to say. People didn’t want to talk about it. Fat Walda acted like nothing had happened, changing the subject every time Plain Walda tried to approach it. Little Walder was strangely subdued around her, and after she had cornered Big Walder and forced the boy to spill out the story of her death, he had started avoiding Plain Walda, too.  
  
“There was nothing on the other side.”, Plain Walda said to Old Nan. “Nothing. There was no heaven, or Seven.”  
She crumbled a bit of cheese between her fingertips, making it soft enough to chew, and offered it to the blind old woman.  
“Maybe it’s the truth.”, Old Nan said. “Not many can say they have been on the other side.”  
“I never thought the gods were real. Or that magic was real.”, Plain Walda murmured.  
“Oh, magic is very real, little Walda. It is born from life, blood or death. I know a story of cold gods who could bring back the dead. They feel no pain, and their eyes are bright like blue stars, their feet and hands black with old blood...”, Old Nan said darkly.  
Plain Walda glanced at her hands and feet. They were still lightly tanned, a courtesy of a childhood lived in a long summer, with no hint of black.  
“My hands and feet are fine. I need to borrow Fat Walda’s mirror to check the eyes.”, Plain Walda said. A thought occurred to her, and she became anxious:  
“That bitch! Fair Walda ruined it!”  
Turning to Old Nan, she wailed:  
“Nobody will ever marry me! I’m a Frey, and I also _died_! Fair Walda has ruined my chances of ever finding a good husband! Everyone is frightened of me.”  
“Not many northern lords would take a dead wife marked by magic, I fear.”, Old Nan nodded compassionately. “Only a few would be brave enough.”  
Plain Walda burst in tears of anger.  
“Hush, my girl.”, Old Nan said, petting Plain Walda’s hair. “You need to see it differently. Since you know there is nothing on the other side, there is nothing to fear, either. All monsters are on this side, including Ramsay Snow. And he is only a bastard, while you are a girl brought back by magic. You have nothing to fear from likes of him.”  
Plain Walda blinked, astonishment quieting her sobs for a moment.  
“I cared for many babies in Winterfell. I nursed them and I held them, and I tucked them in their beds. Even though I’m blind, I know their faces like my own hands. The bastard of Bolton never got Bran or Rickon. The heads he put on the wall were all wrong.”, Old Nan whispered. “The King in the North still lives, and you must save him. That is why the gods brought you back.”  
“It was not Old Gods who brought me back, but Fat Walda who made a red priest to do it.”, Plain Walda said, pulling away. “Are you trying to trick me into something?”  
Old Nan’s wrinkled lips hardened.  
“Does it matter?”, she asked, her old voice suddenly made from steel. “Your grandfather broke the guest right, angering the Old Gods. All of you will suffer for it, unless you make amends. Your cousin is married to a monster, and the monster’s son is even worse. My Hodor is missing, and I want him home. I want my Bran and Rickon back in Winterfell and I don’t want to die in the hands of mad bastard. If you have any decency in you, you will save my boys and kill Ramsay Snow.”  
“I don’t even know where your precious boys are! And I can’t kill Ramsay!”, Plain Walda snapped.  
“You died, yet here you are. Don’t tell me lies of what you can or what you can’t do, girl. Your family owes this for Robb Stark. He was mine, and I cared for him, too, just like the rest of them.”, Old Nan said harshly.   
She turned her back at Walda, judgemental and stiff, and Walda felt angry. She held her lips together tightly, turning her back at Old Nan, too. She left the cells and climbed up the stairs to prison door, where Sour Alyn stood on guard in case there would be another attack.  
“Ramsay can find someone else to feed the prisoners.”, Plain Walda said, glaring at Sour Alyn, who blinked, and then took a step back before nodding hastily.  
Before, she would not have dared to dream of defying one of the Bastard’s Boys, but now even they feared her. Despite its usefulness, the revelation did not cheer Plain Walda up as much as it should have.

 

She did not get a good night’s rest for her first night among the living, because two things happened. First, Fat Walda went into labour. Because Fat Walda was so big already, her pregnancy was not very visible, but when Plain Walda began to count, it had been nine and half months since the cousins had made their deal and lord Roose wed Fat Walda. But Frey blood bred true, and in six hours, Fat Walda held a baby boy in her arms with wide beaming smile on her face.  
“If only my lord Roose was here! He will be so pleased to see I’ve given him a son! He might even smile! Oh, Walda, you must send a word to him!”, Fat Walda exclaimed.  
Privately, Plain Walda could not imagine anything which would please lord Roose enough to make him smile. Lord Roose smiling was as likely as the Wall melting.  But Plain Walda was a lady companion, whose livelihood depended on her patron’s charity. Therefore, she just smiled, nodded and went to maester’s tower to send the requested message.

Old maester Uthor was in his nightshirt, sitting by the window and looking like he was in tears. He held a piece of parchment in his shaking hands.  
“Oh, lady Walda. Terrible news. Lord Ramsay wrote to us, telling that lord Roose is dead, slaughtered by the ironborn!”  
Plain Walda blinked. Then she straightened her posture, closed her left hand over her right in ladylike manner, and said:  
“How sad. My cousin will be very upset. But you must not grieve overly much; I believe that his only son, our little lord Walder will be a great, _kind_ master to us all.”  
Maester Uthor opened his mouth, and then closed it. He wiped his eyes on his sleeve, and said carefully:  
“It is true that baby Walder is Lord Roose’s legitimate son, but there is a degree of King Tommen which establishes Ramsay Snow as Ramsay Bolton.”  
“I have never seen such thing or heard of it. You must be mistaken.”, Plain Walda stated coolly. “I understand Ramsay wishes he could inherit, but it was before little baby Walder’s birth.”  
Glancing at Maester Uthor, she added:  
“We have two thousand Frey soldiers camping outside Dreadfort, commanded by my uncles Ser Aenys and ser Hosteen who are seasoned soldiers. Their men are ready to defend the rightful lord and heir against all illegal claimants. Dreadfort is well prepared for the winter; there is enough food to last for two years’ siege if counted carefully. I don’t think a cruel bastard with a false claim will be very popular with neighbouring lords. Not after how Ramsay treated his late wife, lady Hornwood. Didn’t he make her eat her own fingers and starve? I doubt he will treat his subjects any better once he becomes the lord of the keep.”  
“Indeed.”, Maester Uthor murmured. “You said two thousand soldiers?”  
“Yes.”, Plain Walda agreed. “I was just thinking about sending them a word about my nephew’s birth. They will surely wish to see him with their own eyes. We could bar the gates to keep the family celebration private – after we’ve thrown unwanted riffraff, of course. I’ll tell uncle Aenys to come armed.”  
“I was the maester here when young lord Domeric died of sickness of the bowels soon after making friends with Ramsay. I grieved for the boy; he was a fine, fine young man. I would not wish for young lord Walder to catch a similar affliction. It was the smell, you see; that servant Reek Ramsay insisted on keeping smelled so bad it caused sickness.”, Maester Uthor said, his words carefully measured. “While you write to your uncles, I will make a list of people who are too contagious to stay. We would not want another Reek inside the gates.”  
“No, we would not.”, Plain Walda agreed firmly.

The room was empty. Plain Walda sat in Lord Roose’s nice leather chair, sharpened a new quill and opened a drawer to look for a parchment. But her eyes were drawn by a coloured scroll with a broken crimson seal. Glancing at the door, she put the quill down and opened the scroll.  
“By the degree of King Tommen, First of His Name, the natural-born son Ramsay Snow is legitimized as Ramsay Bolton, the firstborn son of Lord Roose Bolton, Warden of the North.”, she read.  
Plain Walda ripped the parchment into five long strips, and threw them in the fire. Then she dipped in her quill in the inkwell and began to write:  
“Lord Roose Bolton has died honourably in a battle against the ironborn. The Dreadfort is ruled by his oldest surviving son, lord Walder Bolton, who is guided by his mother, lady Walda Bolton, until he comes of age. Lord Walder grieves bastard Ramsay Snow’s cruel treatment towards late lady Hornwood. Dreadfort shall not interfere with any efforts to bring Ramsay Snow to justice for lady Hornwood’s murder.”  
Having finished one copy, Plain Walda began another. There were quite many northern lords.


	6. Victorious Walda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plain Walda arranges a surprise for Ramsay.

Taking over Dreadfort was fast and dirty. But Plain Walda had written a list for her uncles, making a note of every able man who might be too dangerous to leave inside the walls. She sat with Maester Uthor, Fat Walda and Baby Walder in Maester’s Tower, chewing her lip while choosing the right words to write. Big Walder and Little Walder stood at the door, guarding it.  
“Are you sure about this?”, Fat Walda asked uncertainly.  
“We can’t side with Lannister king because he made Ramsay trueborn. Grandfather murdered the King in the North. There is nobody else left than Stannis Baratheon, who wrote to all northern lords demanding fealty. I can’t see Manderlys or Glovers breaking us out from a siege. It’s better to trust to unknown king than them.”, Plain Walda replied. “Sign this.”

She pushed her declaration to Stag King towards Fat Walda, who was rocking Baby Walder. Turning her attention towards the prescription list, Plain Walda took another parchment where she had counted the pantry items and began to compare the two. After their uncles finished with their task, she would have to decide what to do with Winterfell prisoners. It was obvious that their fealty was to Starks, and the pantry was not limitless. It might be better to send them to face the winter alone.  
“Lady Frey... Have you slept at all?”, Maester Uthor asked carefully.  
Plain Walda stopped her work and turned slowly. Her three cousins and the maester were all watching her. There was worry in Fat Walda’s watery eyes, and something else, too. Was it fear? Plain Walda cleared her throat and said:  
“I haven’t been tired.”  
“It’s been two days since you woke up, and the servants have not seen you eat.”, Fat Walda said.  
“I am not hungry, but I have been very busy defending Baby Walder’s inheritance. I’m sure the hunger will come later.”, Plain Walda said defensively. She did not like these questions.  
“I believe you are loyal to lady Walda and little lord Walder. But you were dead, and now you are not. For their safety, may I perform a simple test? Your hand, please.”, the maester said.  
Unwillingly, Plain Walda offered her hand. She noticed Little Walder and Big Walder coming closer to see, when maester Uthor took a small, sharp knife from a table and pricked her finger.  
She did not feel anything, but the blade must have been very sharp. Most blades in Dreadfort were; it was the Bolton motto. She watched how the old man squeezed her finger, and a drop of black blood dwelled in the wound.   
“See! I told you so! I bleed, and there is nothing wrong with me!”, Plain Walda declared, but then the drop fell on one of her parchments, making a hissing noise. When Maester Uthor picked it up, showing everyone a small, freshly burnt hole in the parchment, Plain Walda felt faint.  
“Oh, shit.”, she said weakly.  
Little Walder and Big Walder retreated, but Fat Walda didn’t even flinch.  
“It’s a good thing you haven’t flowered yet.”, Fat Walda offered.  
Plain Walda didn’t appreciate it.  
“I’m an undead monster with literally burning blood and you just ask me try not to bleed?”, her voice broke.  
“We are Freys. We will always find a way. I can think few uses for burning blood in a siege, and I’m sure Uncle Aenys and Uncle Hosteen will know more. If you flower, do it when Ramsay comes home. He won’t see that one coming.”, Fat Walda said with a sly smile.  
“Gaah!”, Plain Walda cried out. “You are a horrible person.”  
“I’m lady Bolton.”, Fat Walda corrected, sounding content.  
A loud bang on the door interrupted their argument.  
“The bastard has been spotted approaching Dreadfort with thirty men.”, Uncle Hosteen bellowed.   
Plain Walda saw the faces of her cousins turn pale with fear. It was the Frey way to lock their women behind closed doors and let their men to deal with things better left unseen. But all three Waldas, whether they were plain, fair or fat, had lived in fear of Ramsay for too many months to forgive it. The bitter blood of Walder Frey flowed in her veins, too. She smoothed her skirts and stood up.  
“It is time for you to lock yourselves in lord’s solar. I will welcome Ramsay in your name.”, Plain Walda said softly, kissing Fat Walda’s cheek. Her cousin’s shoulders twitched, but her hold on baby Walder never moved.  
“Your mouth is very hot.”, Fat Walda remarked.  
“Good to know.”, Plain Walda replied and pushed open the tower door.

\--

First time Plain Walda kissed a boy was in Dreadfort’s courtyard, surrounded by a ring of steel. No matter how old Ramsay Snow was, he looked like angry, frightened boy, kneeling on the yard and being held between Walda’s uncles. But bullies never expected their victims to come back, Plain Walda thought calmly. Ramsay Snow had teased her cruelly, frightening her and playing games with them all. It was pleasing to see him stand there, bleeding and weapon less inside a circle of Frey swords pointed at him.  
“You!”, Ramsay’s eyes widened, and he struggled to escape from her uncles’ iron grip. “But you were fucking dead!”  
Plain Walda took a small skinning blade from her pocket. She had nicked it from lord Roose’s collection and coated it with poison, just to be on safe side. She opened her mouth and made a small cut inside her lower lip. Blood filled her mouth, but it didn’t feel any different to her than she remembered. Plain Walda handed the knife to Big Walder. Ramsay was just the type to strike her with her own blade.  
“I am. “, she acknowledged. “But we are Freys. We will always find a way.”  
Kneeling on the bloody stones, Plain Walda leaned closer to Ramsay.  
“Dreadfort belongs to us now. It’s ruled by lord Walder Bolton.  There is no place for you in our fort.”  
Ramsay’s eyes flashed madly, but he reined his temper in.  
“I have a little brother? How splendid. I would be happy to greet my dear brother. I loved my last brother, too.”, he said, and Walda tasted the mix of poison and blood in her mouth. She leaned forwards a bit more and placed her hand on Ramsay’s shoulder. His armour had been taken away, and the shirt beneath was ripped. His skin felt chillingly cold, and something in those dirty ice-chip eyes made Walda sharpen. He felt like an enemy. It was not a new thought, but… Perishing the strange feeling, she focused on Ramsay’s annoying mouth and kissed him.

He screamed in her mouth when the burning blood, mixed with strangling poison, filled his mouth. It had been a gamble to ask poison from Maester Uthor, but if her heart no longer beat, there was little to lose. On the contrary, Plain Walda thought when she pulled away from her first kiss, she felt like she had only gained. She stood up, still tall and thin in her old black dress, and watched Ramsay gasp for air. His face began to turn purple, and droplets of blood fell on his chest, leaving burn marks on his pallid skin. The faces of soldiers around them were frightened, and many hands holding swords were shaking when Ramsay fell on the dirty stones. But for the first time in her life, Plain Walda’s uncles were looking at her with respect.  
“You are certainly a sprout from the old tree.”, Uncle Aenys shook his head, grinning.  
“As crafty and mean as Old Walder.”, Uncle Hosteen nodded.  
Plain Walda beamed.


	7. Almost a queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of the commenters wanted to know what happened to Fair Walda. So here's an epilogue from Fair Walda.

“Oh, fuck.”, Fair Walda said, shaking her head slowly. Her mouth was slightly open, and she was, for once, speechless, when she looked around the building site.  
“It’s been like this ever since you killed her. She says it gets boring during the night because she doesn’t sleep, and she gets these ideas. First it was importing these ‘potatoes’ from Skagos and frightening all Baby Walder’s peasants to planting them, and now she has built a harbour by the Weeping Water.”, Fat Walda’s voice was accusing.  
“You can’t say it isn’t amazing.”, Fair Walda murmured. “Just look at the size of the river now. When I left, it was barely fit for sailing.”  
“Stop speaking like I wasn’t here!”, Plain Walda appeared between neat stacks of lumber.  
She was followed by confused-looking Theon, and three identical toddlers.  
“Do we have a deal or not?”, she demanded. “If the ironborn can’t build me decent ships, I can always ask the Bravoosi. They ask only forty percent of profits, not forty-five I’m offering to you.”  
Fair Walda looked appraisingly at the stacks of fresh timber and nodded slowly.  
“I think we do. Theon, tell your shipwrights that they are staying.”

 

Fair Walda’s father-in-law was not happy to hear that the ironborn had entered a trading agreement with Boltons. Balon Greyjoy had strong feelings about ironborn motto of reaping, not sowing. But Fair Walda was the mother of Theon’s triplet sons and because there would never be any other heirs for Balon’s throne, he couldn’t do much to stop her. Asha, Fair Walda’s intelligent sister-in-law, took the improvement in stride and noted that North didn’t have anything worth stealing, so joining forces to drain Essos’ purses was very well.  
Asha was the only Grejoy Fair Walda respected, mostly out of fear. She was very sharp on how Fair Walda treated Theon, and the one slip when Fair Walda had called him Reek in public and ordered him to lick her boots, had cost Fair Walda a front tooth. She also spent a disturbing time with Dagon, Dalton and Alton, telling them things like a captain must be ready to die for her crew, and how blood was thicker than water, and how one must love his little brother enough to break into a hostile castle to save him. Asha’s ideas of loyalty sounded rather unrealistic and far-fetched from Frey standpoint, but Fair Walda never corrected her. Maybe her years by the sea had made her soft, but when she watched her little black-haired sons sitting at Asha’s feet, she found herself hoping that they would take after their aunt, not the Freys, if something terrible ever happened to one of them. Theon, who was too attuned to other’s moods after his imprisonment, patted her hand in clumsy attempt to comfort, and Fair Walda allowed it.

\--

When a ship arrived to Pyke to bring Grejoy’s share of first year’s profits of northern timber trade to Braavos, there was an unexpected passenger on board.  
“You owe me.”, Fat Walda’s voice rose in distress. “You owe me, do you hear? I’ve put up with her for three years, and now it’s your turn. She is bored with timber and talks about starting a bank! A bank!”  
“What is dead may never die, but rises again, harder and stronger.”, Theon muttered.  
“Maester Uthor tried to talk sense to her, saying that there are no banks in Seven Kingdoms, but Plain Walda says it’s a great business opportunity, and that fool at the Wall encourages her!”  
“Who’s fool at the Wall?”, Asha asked, leaning against the wall. She seemed to enjoy Frey family problems, and Fair Walda wanted to give her evil glare to send her away, but she didn’t dare.  
“Samwell Tarly! Lord Commander Snow wrote to all northern lords, asking for resources, and Plain Walda offered them a loan!”, Fat Walda’s round cheeks were blushing with upset. “She said the Night’s Watch is not economically sound, and if we give them food and men like normal people do, they have to depend on donations forever, so it would be better to improve their gross revenue. What the fuck is gross revenue?”  
“No idea.”, Fair Walda admitted. She didn’t like not being in the know.  
“Maester Uthor didn’t know either, but Tarly boy liked it, and they invited Plain Walda to the Wall, and now she has taken two of my ships to trade with Watch and wildings! She takes money from the Watch to sell their timber in Essos, and they all are happy, and there are going to be more ships!”  
Asha looked deep in thought, and she glanced through the windowslit towards the docks. Fair Walda didn’t like that look.  
“She is not satisfied although the treasury is full! She wants to build a bank! A bank where she gives away my Walder’s money to poor people and thinks they will pay him back! Money is not meant to be given away, it’s supposed to be kept in a box under heavy guard!”, Fat Walda yelled. “It’s your fault she turned this way, Walda! It’s your fault, and I demand you stop her before she turns my Walder’s inheritance into a bank!”  
Fair Walda sniffed. She was still a beauty, even though she had given birth to three sons, and she was almost the queen of Iron Islands.  
“That is unfair. I pushed her from the wall, but you were the one who made a red priest bring her back.”, she put the blame firmly on where it belonged.  
“I don’t care. It’s your turn. I’ve kept her for three years. She’s seventeen, and more terrible by year. It’s your turn.”, Fat Walda shook her finger.  
“A bank could work. People would likely pay back to a undead woman.”, Asha said thoughtfully.  
Alarmed, Fair Walda turned to look at Asha, and a smug smile spread at Fat Walda’s face.

“We can’t take her here!”, Fair Walda exclaimed that night in their bedchamber, pacing back and forth on the cold stone floor. “If we let Plain Walda to spend too long with Asha, they will start a bank, your father will have a stroke, and Iron Islands will mutiny, costing our sons’ future crown!”  
Fair Walda liked to monologue, and Theon was not a type to disturb anyone, but this time she was interrupted.  
“Why don’t you send her back to Red Priests?”, Theon suggested shyly. “They made her. Wouldn’t they know what to do with people who don’t sleep and have too much time?”  
A relief spread in Fair Walda’s body. She would send Plain Walda to Essos! Yes! She jumped on bed, and kissed surprised Theon.  
“Oh, my sweet Reek! You are so clever!”, she praised. “You saved our sons’ inheritance!”  
A beautiful blush coloured Theon’s cheeks, and he smiled with his toothless mouth.  
“Reek was good?”, he whispered, in case Asha was nearby.  
“Oh, Reek was perfect.”, Fair Walda purred, and he beamed.

\--

Plain Walda loved Braavos. True, she had been surprised when Fat Walda had suggested she should travel to Braavos and stay there, but she understood it would be useful to spend some time studying what exactly had happened to her.  The temple of Red God was larger than any building she had ever seen, and the endless possibilities for developing her northern timber exporting fleet were interesting!  

She dipped a quill in inkwell and wrote:  
“One of the new contacts I have gained is a Pentoshi merchant called Illyrio Mopatis. He invited me to spend some time at his villa, and I’ve decided to accept his invite after recent unpleasantness with the Iron Bank.”  
“A recent unpleasantness?”, a boyish chuckle tickled her neck. “They were trying to drown you in the canal! ”  
Plain Walda smiled. She had finally grown into her nose and looks, making her handsome lady.  
“And then you saved me.”, she said.  
“You should write so.”, he commanded. “My handsome saviour was alerted by noise and when he saw three goons trying to drown the most beautiful maiden in red, he killed them and fearlessly jumped in the canal to save me. And when he saw my green eyes looking at him admiringly, he fell hopelessly in love.”  
His mouth was warm against her neck, and a giggle tried to slip from Walda’s mouth. His lips were the first expression of heat she had felt since her death. But Young Griff was special. He never felt cold to her.  
“Both my cousins are old. Fat Walda is a widow and Fair Walda is a pirate’s salt wife. I can’t tell them about you. They would get jealous.”, she explained.  
He smiled, and his eyes looked as purple as his hair.  
“One day they will all know, my love. I promise you.”

 

 _Lady Walda Frey (the daughter of Lothar Frey) was known as Aegon VI’s mistress and the strongest supporter in his war to reclaim his throne. Lady Walda’s family ties brought the North, the Ironborn and the Freys to join Aegon’s conquest, and she is also thought to have provided economical support to king’s war through her export company._  
_Lady Walda served the King as Mistress of the Coin. During her years of service, she established the Bank of Westeros, and helped the crown to negotiate Baratheon dynasty’s debts to Iron Bank of Braavos. She was known to have studied at Red Temple in her youth and rumoured to have proved magical assistance during the war against undead._  
_Lady Walda never married or had children. She was said to be in good terms with Queen Daenerys and the queen’s dragons despite her relationship to the king. She left her considerable fortune to her cousins' children when she passed away after the Siege of Winterfell._

_Maester Samwell Tarly: The History of Second Long Night_


End file.
